Songbird in the Shadows
by Firestarter62
Summary: Brittany gets wrapped up in a world she never knew existed when she meets Santana Lopez, a succubus and the last person to see her brother in over a week. Before she knows it, she's stuck inside a dangerous world of demons, fairies, and magic.
1. The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, and I also feel like I should say something about not having any claim to Jim Butcher's **_**The Dresden Files**_** series, which this work was heavily inspired by.**

Brittany S. Pierce stood as still as a statue in the almost oppressive darkness that existed behind the heavy velvet curtain that currently draped across to stage, shielding her and the other six members of _Stix_'s famed dance act. She was nervous, naturally, like she was every time she was about to perform in front of a crowd larger than her brother Sam, or her parents, or a few of her friends. But she couldn't let the nerves rise to the surface, she couldn't be overcome by them.

If there ever was a person born to do something with their life, it was Brittany, and that something was to dance. According to her parents, she had been a dancing machine practically since the first time she had ever heard music. Mom joked all the time, in fact, that while every baby kicked in their mother's womb, Brittany was the only baby doing a kick_line_. Sam, of course, always argued that all that kicking must have been the root cause of his dyslexia, and they both laughed every time. She'd been doing formal dance, everything from ballet to modern to jazz to tap, ever since she was six. She'd been a cheerleader and the captain of her high school's dance team, and had even received a dance scholarship from Ohio State.

Now, here she was, at twenty-three years old, smack in the sixth week of her sixth month-long contract with _Stix_. So far it had been the greatest experience of her life, and the reviews had been rave. Everyone from friends to talent scouts to newspaper critics, and of course her parents and brother, by far the biggest source of praise. Even Marv, the owner of the club/restaurant, had nothing but good things to say about her, though judging by some of the looks Marv gave her, she doubted that his intentions in that regard were purely to make her feel like part of the _Stix _family.

Marv, however, with his bald head, badly planned beard, and even more badly planned stomach definition, held no interest for her. Nor would he have even if he was the most gorgeous man to ever live. It wasn't that Brittany didn't like men, oh no, she'd had two boyfriends in high school and had been very attracted to, and perhaps on the road to loving, one of them when it came time for college and for her to pursue her dreams. But for Brittany it was always about the dance, and anything else was just an unnecessary distraction. No one, man or woman, was going to take her away from her passion.

The noise from beyond the curtain suddenly began to quiet until only one booming voice remained. Brittany tensed herself as she listened to the announcement, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Amber, an African-American dancer from a small town in Indiana, doing the same.

"_Ladies and Gentleman_" Marv's voice sounded from in front of the curtain, projected from the four wall-mounted speaker's that would soon project the music that Brittany and her fellow dancers were preparing to perform to. "_Please join me in welcoming the greatest dance act that Cleveland has ever seen: The Stix Dancers!"_

There was a burst of loud applause from the audience, progressively getting louder as the heavy veil retreated to the edges of the rectangular stage. Brittany stood even stiller than she had been before, waiting for the lights to come up and the music to begin playing. As the applause died down, a single whistle went up from the crowd. Before it even had a chance to echo, the lights were up and music was bursting from the speakers.

Brittany fell into the rhythm as it did, losing her sense of place almost completely. She knew what she had to do, and she knew that the other dancers did as well. All she had to do was do what she knew she was supposed to, what she had so painstakingly practiced in the studio, and on this stage, and even in front of her brother.

When the music stopped, so did her body, though her mind only gathered that fact a few milliseconds later. There was a burst of cheering and applause from the appreciative audience, but Brittany couldn't see any of them, seeing as the number had ended with her back to the audience. Though even blind to it was she was, she could not shake the feeling that someone was gazing at her more intently than the others, and not just some horny male either. She wanted to turn her head slightly to see if she could catch a glimpse, but before she got the chance, the next song started and her mind gave her body the nudge it needed to fall into the dance.

There were three more songs in the routine, and even when her moves had her facing front she couldn't take even a microsecond to seek out the source of the odd feeling. Finally, after nearly ten minutes of dancing, the last song finished. Brittany, suspended as she was on the shoulders of Amber and Diana, got a chance to scan the crowd.

It was hard to catch the face her feeling was directing her to for a moment, but then, out of some sudden instinct, she knew right where to look.

And she was glad she had.

Whatever odd feeling had come over her on stage, she could tell the source by one glance: a beautiful dark-haired girl, her skin the rich caramel color of a native of Puerto Rico or some other tropical isle. Her features were pretty, but tight somehow, like a predator. And her eyes, her eyes reminded Brittany of the time she and Sam had seen wolves at the zoo during a trip to San Diego. Focused, alert, hauntingly beautiful…

She felt an odd jerking sensation as the girls holding her lowered her down to the stage. The troupe bowed once, then twice more, and exited the stage. Before she reached the wings, Britt turned to catch one last glimpse of her alluring observer. Whoever she was, she was sitting back down from her standing ovation, still clapping politely and still looking as intensely at Brittany as before.

The curtain swished closed, and Brittany felt herself being shocked back into reality as she felt a touch on her arm. She snapped her head around and found herself looking directly into Diana's concerned face. "Is something wrong, Britt?"

Brittany shook her head. "No, it's nothing," she replied, "I just, uh, I thought I recognized someone out there in the crowd."

"Was it your brother?" came the voice of Jenna at her side, taking her arm and leading her back to the dressing room. "Oooh, the things I would do to that boy if I had half a chance…"

"No, it definitely wasn't Sam," Brittany assured her, "I'd definitely know him. Actually, it's weird, but, it's been nearly a week since I've gotten to talk to him."

"Really? I thought you two were practically attached at the hip." This from Diana, who sat at her usual makeup table, directly to the right of Brittany.

Britt sat at her table and reached for her eyeliner, hoping to do some touching up before the nine o'clock show. She wondered if that woman would still be in the crowd…

"Do ya think?" Brittany felt Diana tapping on her shoulder, and found herself shocked back to reality. What had it been about that woman that was making her so spacey?

"I'm sorry, what?" She asked, looking at Diana.

"I _said_: Maybe he went and found himself a girlfriend," the blonde repeated, obviously annoyed at having to, "With looks like that, that wouldn't be too hard to imagine."

"Oh, no, I definitely would have heard about that," Brittany said, "Sammy learned from an early age that he couldn't keep his little crushes from me. He dated Allison Mockrie for a whole month, and thought I had no idea, but I knew from the start. It's not a girlfriend, I'll tell you that much."

"Good, now Jenna's heart can resume its beating," joked Lea, applying a layer of powder to her nose. Britt could see Jenna frowning in indignation in her mirror.

"And anyway, even if he hadn't told me it himself, you know how Kurt talks." Brittany stood up and took a step back, admiring her red and gold costume in the mirror. "Sam just gets like this sometimes. He'll shut himself away for days working on some, who-knows-what. Maybe he's got a really tough case…"

"Speaking of a tough case," said Amber from her position by the door, "Here comes Marv." Brittany sat back down and quickly got to looking busy with her hair, but actually just stared at the photo of her and Sam at their twenty-first birthday party, both of them laughing and holding beer bottles high in celebration. Not that that was _really _the first time they'd ever drank a beer, but they had to act like it, for Mom and Dad's sake.

The Blondie twins, they'd been called by almost every member of their family, and it was true. From birth, both of the Pierce children had been almost blindingly fair-haired, though it had darkened quite considerably with age, his more than hers.

"And how is my star?" asked the unmistakable voice of Marv. Brittany could see him standing behind her in the mirror, all but leering as the dancer picked up a brush and began to run it through her hair. "You put out a great performance out there, though it did take you a little long to get offstage. See something out there?"

"No," she lied, putting down the brush and readjusting her headband, "Just a little more attention hungry tonight, I guess."

"Ah, I see," the manager said, grabbing a stand of Britt's hair and twisting it lightly in his fingers. Brittany pulled it away almost immediately, and Marv's eyes hardened slightly. "Well, don't let it all go to your head, Baby, or ya might find yourself back in the corner." Marv turned to address the entire room. "C'mon, ladies, double time, next show's in ten!"

A few minutes later, as the girls headed out to the stage, Brittany made sure to be the first one on-stage. That would give her a few moments to take a quick peek through the curtain…

Just as she expected, the woman was still there, sipping on a martini. She was wearing a tight fitting black dress with a red waist, and heels that must have been six inches, maybe even seven. She was alone at her table, and every once in a while her gaze would wander, as if she was searching for something…

Brittany felt a hand around her arm as she was pulled back to stand with the other girls. "You crazy?" whispered Lea, "Do you know what Marv would do if he saw you pulling shit like that? Gee, Britt, maybe all this attention _is _going to you head."

Brittany nodded an apology and headed to take her spot in line. Fame wasn't getting to her head, no, but _something_ certainly was…

* * *

><p>Two hours and two shows later, Brittany sat backstage once again. She was nearly alone, except for Lea, who was still in the midst of removing her stage makeup. She slipped on her flats, leaned back in the chair, and let loose a loud yawn, which she could see caused Lea to take a look over in her direction, though the dancer said nothing and instead just continued to remove her cosmetics.<p>

That woman had been there for all three shows, Britt had noticed, and no one had ever joined her at her table. It was almost creepy, she thought, the way that she'd felt the gaze so intensely, as if somehow the woman had tethered herself to Brittany by her eyes. Frankly, it had her worried.

Sighing, she checked the clock in the corner of the room. Ten-thirty. She glanced down at Lea, who was no putting on her own shoes. "Hey, Lee. Wanna walk out together?"

"Sure thing, Britt," the dance replied, reaching under the vanity to find her purse. She slung it over her shoulder and walked over to Brittany, who pulled her own bag out as well. She rummaged through it for a second until she found what she'd been looking for. The dense red plastic of the pepper spray comforted her somehow. It would be best to have a way to defend herself if things did get creepy. "Packing the heat, I see."

Brittany chuckled, running her thumb over the can. "Hey, you never know." She turned back to the mirror, and after sparing a few seconds to glance at the photo of her and her brother, she flicked off the vanity's lights and turned back to her colleague. "Let's go."

Though it was already May, the air was still quite chilled when the dancers let themselves out the door that led to the alley behind _Stix_. Brittany found herself wishing that she'd had the foresight to bring a jacket.

Even though the alley seemed deserted, it was not exactly quiet, with the loud music from the club pumping out a bass beat. Brittany took a moment to imagine the club patrons inside, dancing and having fun. Maybe the woman was still inside, bumping and grinding in perfect time to the music, surrounded by admirers male and female, all of them wishing for just one soft, sensual touch…

Brittany felt herself stumble and let out a cry of surprise as she pitched forward and felt Lea's hand grab her around her arm. She let the other dancer steady her. "You okay, Britt. What the hell was that, I've never seen _you _trip. Not even during five a.m. rehearsal. Is something wrong, Brittany? Is it because you haven't seen Sam for a while, because I'm sure it's just…"

"No, no, I'm fine," Britt replied, pulling her arm away from the other girl, "It's nothing, really. I just tripped. Everything's okay…"

There was a low chuckle from somewhere in the shadows of the alley. "Oh, I'm not sure I would say that."

Brittany immediately raised her mace can into prime firing position, standing in front of Lea to shield the other dancer. "Whoever you are, you better stay back! I'm warning you, I've got this pepper spray, and so help me God, I'll use it."

A loud guffaw burst out from somewhere in the alley. Several guffaws, actually, Brittany noticed. "Sure thing, doll, sure thing." Someone emerged from the shadows, dressed in a trench coat and floppy brimmed hat that covered his face. He was short, she noted, almost coming only to her waist. "I'm certain that little can will do real damage to my buddies."

There was a loud noise from behind the girls, and Brittany whipped her head around to see two more assailants, similarly-attired and statured to the first. They each held a knife in one gloved hand. She turned back to the leader to find that he was packing more heat than the others. The silver of an old style revolver gleamed under the light from above the stage door. "That's right, hon. End of the line for you," the gun-toting mugger said smugly, "This'll teach your good for nothin' bro to think twice before…"

There was a dull _thunk_, and suddenly the assailant dropped face first to the ground. Brittany looked down to see the handle of a knife sticking from his back

When she looked back up again, she could see a figure, clearly and impressively female, in what looked like a red and white bodysuit, a hood pulled up to mask their rescuer's face.

"Britt, what… Hell's goin'… go on…" That was all Lea managed to get out before her eyes rolled back in her end and she fainted dead away, falling into Brittany's arms. She gently lowered her friend to the ground, then turned her head up to see the end of the confrontation.

Whoever it was in the suit certainly knew what she was doing. She took out one of the attackers with a graceful high kick to the face, and when the other came in for a stab, she grabbed his wrist and turned the blade away, then delivered a devastating elbow to the face. The blow caused the goon's wide brimmed hat to fly from his head, revealing the face.

Brittany almost wished she wasn't seeing it.

It was ugly and pinched, flaky. The nose was small and flat, like a pig's, and the ears were long and scaly, with pointed tips. But, most disconcertingly of all, it was green. Brittany almost couldn't believe her eyes. Whatever these mysterious muggers had been, they definitely weren't human. And they seemed to have some kind of argument with her brother. What had he gotten himself into? What had _she _gotten into?

Her savior quickly pulled a knife from a sheath on her hip, and with one quick motion, slashed the odd creature's throat, then moved quickly to the other, who was now beginning to sit up, and served him the same fate as his partner. Then, sheathing the knife, she turned to Brittany.

All of the sudden, Brittany found herself experiencing a familiar feeling. "It's… It's you!"

"Yeah, it's me," her rescuer and possible stalker replied, reaching up and throwing back her hood. She was even more beautiful up close.

And, judging from the dead creatures laying all around the alley, more dangerous too. "Those.. those things…"

"Goblins. Pretty nasty, but not exactly top hitters."

"Uh, right," Brittany stumbled over her words, and the woman in front of her shifted her hips and crossed her arms, obviously getting impatient with her stumbling, "These, um, goblins, they, they said something about my brother. Is he in trouble?"

"Yeah, he is," the woman answered, shifting her eyes towards the ground and sounding almost forlorn, "But we don't think it hasn't anything to do with these losers." She stepped forward and extended her hand. "But regardless, you need to come with me."

Brittany shifted uncomfortably on her knees. "Uh…"

"Oh, come on, I just saved your well-coordinated ass," her rescuer said, exasperated, throwing up her hands in frustration, "I think I deserve a little bit of the ole benefit of the doubt. Besides, you're gonna be in even more trouble once these guys' boss figures out this hit was a failure."

Brittany paused, still not sure. "It's okay, Britt, she's on the up and up."

Brittany turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Standing at the mouth of the alley in an undoubtedly designer sweatervest and shirt combo, along with black slacks and boots shined to perfection, which matched perfectly with the leather gloves on his hands, was someone she'd known for a little over a year, but regardless was quite close to. "Kurt?" she asked, wondering what her brother's secretary was doing here.

"There are gonna be some bad people after you, but she's not one of them," Kurt assured her, stepping closer, the half-inch heels of his boots clicking as he walked, "We need to go."

Britt spared a glance at Lea's collapsed form. "What about her?"

"The gobs will be taken care of by the time she comes to," the woman explained, "But not if we don't beat feet outta here. The brownies have quite the complex about being seen."

"C'mon, Brittany," Kurt said, putting a hand on her shoulder and helping her to her feet, "Everything will be okay. Let's go."

Slowly, Brittany rose. When Kurt started to lead her away, she turned around to spare one last glance at Lea, lying peacefully on the ground. Her rescuer took one last look at the girl as well, then followed after Kurt.

They reached a small blue sports car not a minute later, and Kurt opened the door for her and smoothly helped her slide into the back seat. He got into the driver's seat, and his woman partner slid in next to him. With one last glance around, he turned the key and started the car.

"Where are we going?" Brittany asked, her eyes staying on the entrance to the alley until she could see it no more.

"My place," the woman said, opening a compact and checking her face in the mirror. The reflection of one smoldering brown eye stared back at her. "The name's Santana Lopez, by the way, but you can just call me Santana. I figure if you're going to be going all 'Anne Frank' in my apartment, we might as well be on a first name basis."

"Brittany," she replied. Santana nodded., and turned back to her reflection. Sensing that their conversation was over, she turned back to Kurt. "Those goblins said they were looking for Sam. Why?"

"Their boss has a bone to pick with your brother," Kurt explained, stopping at the red light in front of them, "Let's just say they're having a bit of a disagreement."

"Oh," Britt said quietly, wondering what her brother could be doing to attract the ire of _goblins _of all things, "Is he going to be at her apartment too?"

"Well, uh, see, here's the thing…"

"We don't know where he is either," Santana cut in bluntly, "In fact, damn near nobody does. He's been missing for the better part of a week. We've been looking for him at least two days, but so far nothing's turned up, from our side or the baddies."

"He's… He's just gone?"

"That's right. Completely off grid. And apparently undetectable, by means both mundane and magical."

"Magical?" Brittany asked. Surely this woman was joking. But then again, there were those goblins…

"Oh, that's right, you don't know, do you?" Santana said, turning around in her seat to face Brittany.

"Santana," Kurt said through clenched teeth, "Maybe we should wait until…"

But the latino woman paid him no mind. "Your brother's a wizard, kiddo. He's got magical powers, and most likely, you do too."


	2. Tell Me Something Good

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, and I also feel like I should say something about not having any claim to Jim Butcher's **_**The Dresden Files**_** series, which this work was heavily inspired by. **

"Way to go, San!" Kurt raged as the small blue car sped through the streets of Cleveland to parts unknown to Brittany. "I thought we agreed that we were going to wait until she was at the apartment, and that _I _would be the one to explain it to her…"

"Oh, don't get your Christian Dior designer panties in a twist, fairy boy," Santana drawled, leaning back against her seat's back, "We were gonna have to tell her eventually. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid, right?"

"I'll have you know that I was very prepared to give an informative, but soothing speech," Kurt continued, nonplussed by Santana's relaxed manner, "I wrote notecards, San, honest to God fucking _notecards_! And then you just go and give it all away." There were a few moments of silence before Kurt added, "But then again, you're good at that, aren't you?"

Santana emitted a noise that was remarkably similar to the hiss of a threatened cat, and then the car fell into silence. Brittany let it rest for a few moments, but there were some things she just had to know. "So, when you say wizard…"

"WAIT!" Kurt snapped. After a few moments to gain his composure, he continued calmly, "Sorry about that. Look, I know you have questions, Britt, but could you just wait until we're at Santana's place. It's only another few minutes. I'll explain everything there." He turned his head towards Santana, and added with considerable more venom, "I made those notecards, and by all that is holy, I am going to use them!"

The ride continued in silence for several minutes. Brittany passed the time by looking out the window, trying to get a clue where they were going, and occasionally sneaking surreptitious glances at Santana, who was humming quietly while she filed her nails in the front seat.

She was beautiful, there was no doubting that. Everything from the curve of her waist to her breasts, which strained themselves against her skintight bodysuit, to her alluring lips, was absolute perfection, to the point that it looked like it had been done by some ancient Grecian sculptor. And of course her eyes, there could be no forgetting those.

Being so attracted to a person was a new feeling for Brittany, though not because Santana was a woman. Brittany was no stranger to sexual attraction to other women. Her first real kiss in seventh grade had even _been_ with another girl. But this was the first time she'd ever experienced such a primal, carnal attraction to anyone before, man or woman. It was odd, and a bit disconcerting.

She was able to distract herself from her strange thought path when Kurt pulled the car into a parking garage located adjacent to a medium sized apartment complex. They drove up to the second floor then parked. Kurt turned the key and the engine died. "Okay," he said, turning to Brittany as he unfastened his seat belt. Santana had already exited the car, having foregone a seat belt entirely. "We're here."

Brittany followed Kurt to an elevator, where Santana was tapping her foot impatiently. When the pair arrived, she pressed the up button, and moments later the doors opened with a ding. The trio shuffled into the deserted elevator car.

The doors closed, and they stood for a second in the elevator, quiet and still. Brittany was about to ask why they were just standing around when she noticed Santana taking her finger away from her mouth. A drop of blood was sitting on the finger. She casually smeared her own blood across the number six elevator button in a way that made Britt nearly sick to her stomach. She felt Kurt touch her shoulder.

"Don't worry," he said, "This is completely routine." She nodded and returned to watching Santana at the board.

Now that blood had been smeared on the buttons for five and two as well, Santana stepped back, and spoke, raising her hands above her head. "_Yo Santana López de comandos de este portal para abrir un pasaje a mi casa. El pez espada._"

After a moment, a bright flash burst out from the frame of the elevator door, and then it opened. Santana strode confidently through, and Brittany followed Kurt inside.

Santana's apartment was impressively large, and looked like it had been very carefully designed by a professional. It appeared to all be one room, with steps leading down into a sunken living room-like space, complete with a curved couch and two large and comfortable looking chairs, all three smooth looking red velvet. A small wooden coffee table sat in the middle of the seating area, with several magazines piled on top of it, along with a sleek looking top-of-the-line laptop. In front of the sitting area on an entertainment center rested a large flatscreen television.

Off to the left of the apartment space sat a kitchenette, nothing much other than a large stove, oven, microwave, and coffee machine. All were colored a similar dark red, Brittany noticed, the same red as the carpet in the seating area and on the chairs and couch.

A large picture window behind the television revealed a vast looking jungle, possibly some kind of tropical rainforest. Puzzled at how that view could be possible, she turned to Kurt. "Wait, how does she live in…?"

"Brazil, Britt, we're in Brazil," Kurt replied, taking her by the hand and leading her into the living room. He sat her down on one of the chairs, which mercifully was just as comfortable as it had appeared.

"How?" she asked immediately, "And what did she mean, Sam's a wizard? Is magic…?"

"It's real, Brittany," Kurt explained, reaching underneath the coffee table and pulling out a stack of notecards, just he said he would. Looking down at the first card in the stack, he began to read. "Now, Brittany, I know that this is going to be a bit of a stretch at first, and you'll be a little freaked out, but you need to know that…"

"Tina finally called back," Santana interrupted, stepping out of a door near the stairs to the living room that was presumably the entrance to her bedroom, "She and bird-man are meeting me at Pierce's office. I figured I'd go and you could stay here and get the girl properly oriented."

"Sure thing," he said. Santana nodded and began to head for the door. She was almost there when Kurt spoke again, stopping her in her tracks. "Wait, what about the wolf?"

Santana frowned and checked her watch. She grimaced. "Right. Shit, I told him I'd meet him at eleven. That was almost a half-hour ago." She sighed and checked her hair in the mirror hanging over the table by the front door. "Well, I guess I'll pick him up on the way." She rummaged through her purse and grabbed her cellphone, sliding out the keyboard and typing at it furiously. After a few seconds she snapped it closed and slipped it back into her purse.

"You're going out in your uniform?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow, "Pretty conspicuous, if you ask me."

"I'll change in the car," she replied. Before she left, she turned back and looked at Brittany. "Sorry in advance. There were probably reasons Sam kept the truth from you, and I'm sorry you had to get the blinders ripped off so hard by this." With that she waved her hand in front of the door, and it opened back into the parking garage elevator car. With one last nod, she let the doors close.

"As I was saying," Kurt continued, setting the stack of cards on the arm of the chair, "This is going to be a little hard for you to understand, but just bear with me, okay?" Brittany nodded, though she was still unsure. "First off, yes, magic is real and beings exist that can manipulate it. Humans that can manipulate magical forces, at least with some degree of skill and power, are called wizards. Your brother is one, and all signs indicate that you have the potential to be as well."

"Are… are _you_ a wizard?"

"No, I'm not," he explained, "What I am is something I'll get to later. Anyway, wizards, like your brother, possess a fairly unique ability among humans to harness the forces of magic that are around them and influence the world. For instance, your brother could use magic to create a ball of fire or water, call upon spirits otherwise inaccessible to mortals, or transport himself somewhere else… Well, you get the idea, there's a lot that can be done with magic."

"Does magic have anything to do with Sam disappearing, do you think?" Brittany asked, shifting in her chair. Though Kurt wasn't going too fast for her, this was a lot to take in. "Like, maybe he did something wrong or…"

"No, we're pretty sure your brother didn't accidently transport himself to the middle of the ocean," Kurt assured her, "We didn't really find anything to suggest something _that _big at his apartment. At least, not that Santana or I could detect. I'm sure that Tina will find the same thing."

"Who's…"

"That's no really important right now. Anyway, magic exists, as do hundreds of beings and creatures whom the modern world thinks to be merely fantasy. Like… Well, goblins for instance. I'm one of those beings, as is Santana, though we're not the same type. I'm, well… Let me show you." Kurt stood and closed his eyes. Seconds later there was a bright flash, and thin diaphanous wings sprouted from his back, shimmering in the light of the apartment. The wings began to flap quickly, becoming so fast that they were but a blur, and Kurt rose almost a foot into the air. "So, can you guess?"

Brittany chuckled a little into her hand as she answered. "Kurt, you're… You're a fairy, aren't you? Isn't that a little…?"

Kurt lowered himself to the floor and crossed his arms, his wings disappearing with a shimmer of energy. "Yes, yes, it's very funny that there's a gay fairy. It's really not all that uncommon, you know. Fairies are very open-minded. In fact, if anything I'm unusual for liking it only one way. Other fairies are less… choosey, when it comes to sexual partners. Or victims, as the case may be."

"So, you said Santana isn't the same kind of… of whatever as you." Britt paused nervously for a second, almost afraid to ask the question. "So, what is_ she_?"

"Santana is a succubus," Kurt replied, sitting primly back in the chair, "A beautiful and alluring creature that uses its charms and natural magically-enhanced pheromones to incite its targets to maximum hypersexuality, so it can feed off of its prey through sexual intercourse.

"Ew." Well, at least that explained the feelings she'd been having. Knowing that those feelings weren't entirely natural was simultaneously comforting and creepy.

"Quite," Kurt agreed, nodding, "And that's just scratching the surface. Brittany, there are hundreds of different magical beings, both sentient and not. Most of them _I've _never even encountered, and I've been around for nearly three hundred years."

"What?"

"Oh, yeah, fairies and several other magical beings have extended lifespan due to their powers. I've never even heard of a fairy dying of old age. It's completely unheard of. And before you ask, no, human wizards don't live forever. Usually only for about three or four hundred years, though I've heard of a four-fifty. He couldn't do much in the way of standing or talking, but he was still ticking."

"You said that since Sam's got powers, I do too," Brittany asked nervously, eyes shifting to the floor, "Is that true?"

"It's… certainly a possibility." Kurt shifted forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees, "But magical ability isn't necessarily a bloodline thing. Families with next to no previous magical ancestry can suddenly pop out the next Merlin, and ancient magical bloodlines can shrivel up without so much as a warning. Even being twins like you are, it's just not something we can really be certain of without testing."

"Okay, well, how did Sam figure out he had powers?"

"Well, _he _didn't, per se," Kurt explained, "Let's just say it involved a hellhound and two fire trucks, and leave it at that."

"When?"

"Oh, probably at about… thirteen or fourteen, I think."

Brittany shot up out of the chair, shocked. "What? You mean he's known about this for ten years and he hasn't even _told _me?"

Kurt's face clearly indicated that he wished he hadn't said that. "Well… Well, he probably did it to, you know, keep you safe… Or maybe, um…"

Brittany let out an exasperated sigh and fell back into the chair. "I'm sorry Kurt, but I just… I can't believe he'd keep something like that from me." She put her hands to her face and closed her eyes for a minute, just resting and taking it in.

"Britt? You okay Brittany?"

"I'm fine," she answered, lowering her hands into her lap. She looked up at him apologetically. "It's… It's fine. I'm sure whatever Sam's reasons were for keeping this secret, they made complete and perfect sense to him. I'm okay."

"All right, Brittany. All right." Kurt patted her on the shoulder and positioned himself in front of her. He looked down at her and moved a few stray strands of hair away from her face. "I'm gonna stop now, just let you catch your breath, okay?" Brittany nodded, her hands moving back up to cover her mouth.

"That sounds good."

"I think I'll make some dinner then!" the fairy announced, heading towards the kitchen. "We can't get delivery for, you know, obvious reasons, but I'm pretty sure Santana has the right ingredients for something. Give me an hour, and you'll be feasting like a queen!" Brittany nodded even though Kurt could no longer see her, and laid her head back.

Within minutes, she was asleep.


	3. Start Me Up

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, and I also feel like I should say something about not having any claim to Jim Butcher's **_**The Dresden Files**_** series, which this work was heavily inspired by. **

Santana checked the clock on the dash of her car as she drove down the nearly deserted back street to her destination. Around her she could see the kinds of lowlifes and layabouts that usually populated this area after the sun goes down. One corner she drove past featured a bored looking Asian girl dressed in the provocative trappings of a prostitute. And not even a very good-looking one at that.

It was nearly half an hour after she'd promised to meet her man on the street, who'd been out looking for clues while she and the fairy tailed the wizard's sister. She hadn't wanted to do it, but Kurt insisted that they both keep tabs on the girl, just in case whoever had caused Pierce's disappearance decided to go for his family, or to draw him out if they didn't already have him.

The girl hadn't exactly seemed hugely receptive to the idea of her brother being a missing, possibly endangered wizard, but neither had she experienced the freak-out that Santana had anticipated. It had almost been like she hadn't even heard anything that turned her entire perception of the world on its head.

That got Santana to thinking, though really it shouldn't have. Perhaps this girl wasn't quite as clueless as Kurt seemed to think. Maybe she was in on Sam's disappearance, maybe she'd just been waiting for a chance to get Santana to let her in her apartment…

_Whoa, down paranoia girl_, the succubus thought to herself, turning onto a side street even narrower than the last. The girl was most likely exactly what she said she was, and as clueless as she appeared. She was probably just worried about the wizard, though she'd never admit it. Most likely not even to herself.

Sam had specifically told her, the very first time they'd met and he'd deduced what she was, that there was no way he was letting her get her life-draining paws on him. And while her feelings for the wizard had most assuredly moved from hunger to… something a trifle more sentimental in nature, she was fairly certain his initial warning hadn't lost its gravity. Besides, what good was a relationship where you could barely kiss your boyfriend without concentrating hard on keeping his life energy where it was supposed to be?

_No_, she thought as she slowed the car to a stop, put it in park, and twisted the key out of ignition position, _It's better to be a friend than a mourner._ It was truly a lonely life for a succubus. Unless you could find another of your kind to love, but she'd sworn off that sort of thing after what had happened with Sebastian. Nope, meaningless sexual encounters/feedings and a good group of friends were all the relationships one Santana Lopez could handle.

She grabbed the bag in the passenger's seat, got out of the car, and walked a few paces down the alley she'd stopped near. It was completely deserted, which was odd. She was sure she'd told her street man to meet her in this alley, and even though she was nearly twenty minutes late for the meeting they'd set up when she'd hired him, she still expected more courtesy from him than to wander off. She would have called to inform him of her tardiness, but given how he traveled, it wouldn't even matter if she _did _have his number.

She tugged absentmindedly at the hem of the dark blue, billowy blouse she'd changed into before leaving the garage. Where _could_ that man be…?

Without warning there was a loud growl from behind her, coming in at about head height. _Good God_, she thought, exasperated, _Of all the times to be pulling macho bullshit like this! _Absentmindedly, and taking great care to _look _absentminded about it, she grabbed the furry snout of what she assumed was a werewolf in full-on lupine mode and flung it away like yesterday's trash.

The beast let out something between a whimper and a howl of rage. It landed with a crash somewhere in the shadows of the alley's end. Seconds later there was a _click-clack _of claws on concrete, and a pair of fierce looking yellow eyes gazed at her from the darkness. A low growl came from the shadows, clearly a threat.

"You can cut the Big Bad Wolf shit, Puckerman," Santana said contemptuously, "I ain't scared." The growling stopped. Santana studied the nails of the hand she'd just used to throw the beast away. "Nice try, Snoopy, but I heard you from a mile away."

The wolf padded out of the shadows, then stopped and, with a fluid motion you'd have to videotape and watch in extreme slow motion to see, transformed itself into a crouching, naked human male. He stood quickly and sneered at the Latina, clearly not ashamed of his lack of coverage. "Bullshit, Lopez. You just got lucky is all."

"Sure I did," she sighed, dropping her hand, "Now c'mon, we're off to see the wizard, or the witch, rather. I brought you some clothes." She one-hand tossed the nylon backpack she'd grabbed out of the car at the shifter's feet.

"Clothes?" Puckerman said incredulously, putting his hands on his hips, "Whattsa matter? Can't handle the sight of the basilisk?" He accompanied this statement with a vicious hissing and thrusting of his hips.

Santana simultaneously turned away and rolled her eyes in disgust. "Oh, please. I've fed off of teenage strays with more to offer than you. Now, c'mon, I'm late as it is."

Puck gave her another smarmy grin before bending over to retrieve the sack. He opened it and immediately tossed aside the red boxers she'd put in the sack. While he struggled a bit to pull out the dark jeans in the sack, Santana stole another quick glance southward. _Y'know, as much as I hate to admit it, he ain't that bad._

"Do you know nothing about privacy?" Puckerman exclaimed, smiling with his teeth now as he freed the jeans from the bag. "I do have my modesty, y'know."

Santana sighed and turned to go back to the car. "I'll be in the car when you're decent."

As soon as Puckerman had the door shut, Santana shifted into drive and sped off towards a nicer part of town. Well, a slightly nicer part of town at any rate. A private investigator tended to not live in a terribly upper-crust 'hood, unless he had some suspicious starlet signing his checks.

"So, what'd you find out?"

"Well, I heard from a sprite that the Gool's lookin' for…"

"Yes, yes, I know the Gool is looking for him," she sighed, blowing through a four way stop without so much as a contemptuous glance, "I just had to stop some of his goons from knocking off his sister downtown."

"Oh," Puck said, looking out the window. "She hot?"

"Is who hot, drool-face?"

"Pierce's sister. That dude ain't bad-looking himself. I'd almost kill for a female version."

"Yeah, actually she _is _pretty hot," Santana admitted after several moment's consideration and hesitation, "She's a dancer."

"_Nice!_"

"Hot sister aside, what else ya got?"

"Well, uh, not much, to tell you the truth," the werewolf relented, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn't wearing a seatbelt, and neither was she. God help the cop who tried to stop them for it. "I sniffed around his place and didn't pick up anything, y'know, spooky. But, you know how unreliable that is, what with the state of teleport spells these days."

Santana nodded. "So, diluting everything you just said into a single statement, you're the biggest waste of three hundred dollars _e__ver_. That accurate?"

"Hey now, settle down, _chica_," Puck said defensively, "My lease ain't up yet. Probably any minute now you'll be finding yourself glad to have employed my services."

"Yeah? And maybe right after that, Sebastian Smythe will take his celibacy vows and join up at a monastery." She pulled the car into a parking space across the street from their destination and got out, heading straight across the street, not even glancing back to make sure Puckerman was following her.

Across the street, she saw that, unsurprisingly, her other consultant, who she liked no better than the first, was waiting for her outside the apartment building. The young woman was a short, pretty, young Asian girl, dressed head to toe in black, from her leather boots to her jacket to her gloves. She carried a dark green backpack over one shoulder. Beside her stood a tall man in jeans and a hoodie, a necklace with a bright blue gem for a pendant dangling from his neck.

"You're late," the short witch said, anger clearly evident in her voice, "You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago."

"Excuse my tardiness, Morticia," Santana mocked, leaning up against a nearby streetlight, "I had to pick up my pooch from the kennel." She nodded her head in the direction of Puck, who grinned and gave Tina a quick up-and-down review as a tease.

"Oh, a street werewolf," the witch shot back icily, giving Puckerman himself a once over, "My, what classy company you keep, succubus."

"I figured that if you were allowed to bring your pet, it wouldn't be a problem for me to bring mine along too," Santana said, gesturing to the man behind the witch, "And how is Michael today?" The man gave no response. There was no way he could.

"Michael is my familiar, you know that," Tina rumbled, "And at least he shows some respect, and decorum, unlike your dog. Who seems to have picked up some fleas, by the way." Puzzled, Santana looked over to see Puck standing on the sidewalk looking bored, one hand scratching absentmindedly at his butt. _In _his pants.

"Puckerman!" Santana screeched, and her consultant's hand immediately flew out of his jeans and up to his front, clasping the other. She turned back to Tina. "C'mon, let's get moving before someone starts asking questions. Fourth floor…"

"I know where it is," Tina replied, hitching up her backpack and nodding to her familiar, who immediately followed behind her obediently. Without waiting for Puck, Santana trudged on after her.

"Ouchie, we got ourselves a real ice queen here, huh?" the werewolf said from by her side. Without even looking she extended her hand in a backhand slap that felt like it took him full in the face. Good. "Okay, maybe I earned that, for the whole scratching thing. Anyway, what's with the hostility?"

Santana sighed as the pair followed Tina and her aide to the building's stairwell. Making sure she was out of earshot, she began to explain. "Well, given what I _am_, Tina doesn't exactly trust me. Hasn't from the day we met. I mean, I understand why she would be worried because, y'know, I _do _sex people to death for sustenance. Still, given how much I've helped her out, a little benefit of the doubt would be nice."

The two of them finally caught up to the others in front of apartment 4G, current residence of one Samuel Pierce, wizard.

"I've got the key," Santana announced, pulling it from her purse. She noticed Tina's face wrinkle in annoyance, but paid it no mind. Sam had given her this key, and to her it symbolized his trust. It had become one of her most precious possessions.

The group stepped inside, and Tina immediately stalked to the middle of the room, brushing past Santana. Her familiar followed immediately after her, though he at least had the courtesy to slide past her. As the witch began to take items out of her backpack, Santana glared at her. "Do your thing, Puckerman."

She heard the rustle of fabric as the werewolf disrobed. Seconds later, he padded out from behind her in full wolf form, sniffing the floor with his elongated snout. Feeling pretty useless right about now, she headed over to the bookshelf beside the small TV set, examining some of the volumes resting on it.

Her mindless perusing was unfortunately interrupted by a surprised squeal, an angry growl, and the loud crashing of broken glass. The succubus whirled around to see Tina glaring murderously at the wolf form of Puck, who was crouching next to a large pile off shattered glass and blue powder.

"Puckerman!" she cried out in exasperation and fury, stalking over to him. Suddenly remembering that they were rummaging in an apartment complex in the dead of night, she lowered her voice. "What the Hell did you do?"

"Your _beast_ knocked over my Criskan powder," Tina explained angrily, hands on her hips, "How am I supposed to perform my detection spell without it, hmm?"

Santana grabbed the wolf's ear as hard as she could. The morpher whimpered in pain, changing back to human form as he did. "You're coming with me, Hound of the Bastardvilles." She dragged him into the hall and began to lay into him. "I swear to God, if you make me look bad one more time, not only will I fire you, I'll personally castrate you! With my _teeth._ Clear?" Puck nodded. "Good. Now, you stay out here. And don't let me catch you in wolf-mode, because if I do, there'll be worse than Hell to pay." She turned and stalked back into the apartment, leaving her consultant standing naked in the hallway.

Tina was now sitting in the center of the coffee table, legs crossed in a meditation pose. On either side of her were two lit candles, one blue and the other red. Santana craned her neck to see the Criskan powder, whatever hugely important mystical ingredient _that_ was, spread around the coffee table in a circle. The witch's eyes were closed, and her mouth moved soundlessly, forming words Santana couldn't make out. Mike was crouched on the floor immediately outside the powder ring, trying to scoop what he could of what Puckerman had knocked over into a small leather pouch.

After a few moments, Tina mumbled something, causing Mike to spring up and scuff the powder circle with his boot, breaking it. Tina exhaled loudly as her power released itself throughout the room. Being mystical herself, Santana could feel the rush of the magic pass over her. It felt almost invasive, and she shivered slightly, hoping Tina couldn't see.

The witch stood slowly, her eyes now glowing green. She carefully swept the room, turning in circles to make sure she could take in everything. After a few seconds of observing the main room, she headed for Sam's bedchamber. Santana followed behind her, along with Mike, staying a few steps back.

Tina searched around the bedroom and bathroom, but didn't seem to find anything. Finally, the group emerged back into the main room, which Tina looked over once again, straining hard to maintain her spell. But ultimately she couldn't keep it up forever, and after several minutes, her eyes returned to normal. She frowned.

"Nothing," she sighed, walking over to the coffee table and beginning to pack up her equipment.

"So, what, no magical mojo hanging around?"

"Nothing serious enough to be involved in a kidnapping attempt," the witch explained, zipping her bag and tossing it over her shoulder, "I mean, there are minor things here and there, like magically adjusting the temperature to save on heating and cooling, or lighting a candle, but nothing so big as teleporting. Besides, Sam's got tons of protection against something like that set up around the place."

"All right," San sighed, looking over her shoulder, "I guess we'll go check out the office, since… Wait a minute." She stalked over to the door, where Puckerman, in wolf form, sat sniffing the door. She gave him a slight kick, and he whimpered and backed away, transforming back into human form. "What gives? I told you…"

"I smelled something on the door," Puck explained, standing up and planting his feet defiantly, "I thought it acceptable to disobey your orders, since I was furthering the investigation."

"Don't try and talk all smug, it makes you sound like even more of an asshole than you are," the succubus warned her consultant. "Now, what did you smell?"

"Someone other than Pierce," Puck answered vaguely. Santana raised an annoyed eyebrow, so he wisely decided to elaborate, "I can't tell you exactly who, but I know without a doubt that someone else was in that apartment. The same smell is all over the place."

"And you didn't inform me of this sooner because…"

"Hey, you were the one who threw a fit when I knocked over one little bottle of dust." Santana had to concede to that one.

"In either case, we're done here," she said, closing the door and locking it.

"Hey, my clothes!"

"Oops, sorry," she said mockingly, smirking slyly. "Well, it is a lovely night to walk the dog." Puckerman scowled, but shifted into wolf-mode regardless. He may not have been huge on modesty, but it's one thing to not care who saw what in an apartment building hallway in the dead of night, and quite another to traipse across half the city naked.

Santana lead the way back down to the elevator, looking for all the world like a woman taking her disturbingly large dog for a walk in the dark.

* * *

><p>"It's here, too," Puck reported, rising from the floor of the modest office of Samuel Pierce's private investigation business, "The same smell. Whoever was at the apartment was here too."<p>

Santana nodded. So, someone had visited both Sam's apartment and his office. Why? "Anything on the mojo front?"

"Yeah, there was definitely some kind of supernatural being in here," Tina reported, closing down her spell, "Most likely fairy, I'm about ninety-five percent sure."

Santana grimaced. If a fairy was somehow involved, things could get complicated. Due to the events of the past year, Sam had plenty of enemies among the Fae. And when dealing with fairies, _every _enemy was a potentially deadly one. "That it?"

"As far as I can…" Tina's statement was cut off when Puck brushed past her briskly. She made a disgusted noise and took a step back.

"Hang on," the werewolf said, dropping to one knee and disappearing behind Sam's desk. Curious, Santana followed him around to the back and peered down at him. After a minute of rummaging, he emerged, gripping a small object in his hand. A pen, she observed upon further study. "Well, if this ain't a clue, I don't know what is."

"How is a pen a clue…" Tina began to ask, but was once again cut off.

"Because this pen has a name on it. See, I _am_ worth my retainer."

Santana made a disgusted noise and snatched the pen from his hand. She read the name engraved on it and made an increasingly disgusted noise. "Whose pen is that?" Tina asked.

"Someone who's always sticking his nose where it doesn't belong," Santana answered.


End file.
